


Bleach and Tonic

by LegendofMajora



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Smut, hair cuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendofMajora/pseuds/LegendofMajora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo needs a haircut and Izaya is dangerous when wielding scissors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleach and Tonic

When it comes down to the moment, Shizuo sees it as a twist in fate that now relies on a pair of scissors for his lifeline. One false move and the metal meets flesh and blood to paint the entire bathroom. And it's all fun and games until Izaya—the shitty flea—slits his throat with a pair of scissors and probably has the nerve to laugh while being sprayed with blood. Sadist would probably enjoy it anyway. With a glancing look into the mirror Shizuo sees red eyes staring right back at him, lips twisting into a smirk while his voice is one of surprise.

"What, Shizu-chan, afraid I'll ruin your hair?" Izaya chuckles, running a hand through the bleach-stained locks and noticing the brown roots starting to show. Shizuo grumbles, staring pointedly at the scissors in his hand and Izaya gets the kick out of making a show to put the scissors on the counter top. "You're no fun, Shizu-chan." But the beast's eyes glare when he laughs and smiles too widely to be taken seriously. It's just too much fun to torture a beast with his own mortality in the form of scissors. Especially when he has the _privilege,_ using the word lightly with a huff in Shizu-chan's words, to bleach a monster's hair. So he takes a chunk of hair, pulling Shizuo's head to face him and meet the glare for himself.

Shizuo scowls, heavily unamused and almost wary when it's useless at this point as Izaya keeps his fingers threaded in Shizuo's hair, feeling the coarse texture and sighing at the waste of bleaching it. But because he prefers a monster looking like a monster he's agreed to dye Shizuo's hair. No strings attached. "Don't try anything, flea, **"** he growls in warning, pressing forward to catch Izaya's grin in between his teeth and suck the humor out of them—or at least try. Nevertheless the same laugh reverberates into his mouth as Izaya's lips move against his and nip at his lower lip. Though when Shizuo tries to slide his tongue into Izaya's mouth he has to remember with the tightening grasp in his hair and Izaya pulling away with saliva trailing his lips.

"Lie back, Shizu-chan." Pretending not to take the challenge Izaya more or less forces Shizuo's head back against the counter from his seat on the toilet, taking relish in the death glare that comes his way. Mixing the ingredients of the toner and grabbing the brush Izaya sets to pressing in the chemicals to Shizuo's hair as he shapes the wet hair back and makes a face at Shizuo's new hairstyle. Brown eyes narrow at him again, fingers threading in the collar of his old shirt and a snarl set in Shizuo's bottom lip that catches between his teeth while he looks like a wet dog reluctantly getting a bath as Izaya takes the time to cover all of the hair with the brush and toner. When Izaya is done coating all of Shizuo's hair and the room reeks with the sting of bleach he sets the brush back and retracts his fingers, peeling off his gloves.

"Thirty minutes until rinsing it out, Shizu-chan." Izaya makes a move to rise from his bent knees between Shizuo's and leave, tossing the gloves in the trash next to the closed toilet lid and smirking at Shizuo's angered expression when Izaya decides he has better things to do than sit and entertain a beast while waiting for his hair to die. Or dry, that is. "Behave yourself, ne? Don't tear up my bathroom." With that Izaya is up and stretching his shoulders, heading to the door only if Shizuo doesn't catch on the fabric of the old shirt scratching on his skin and as predicted, Shizuo has no intention of letting Izaya get some actual work done.

"And where do you think you're going, flea?" Before Izaya gets the chance—protesting loudly that Shizu-chan needs to find better hobbies than interrupting his work—Shizuo pulls with a jerk that makes him stumble coincidentally onto him, catching himself before he falls with his fingers gripping the counter top and now in the unexpected position of sitting in Shizuo's lap. Already Izaya can imagine the consequences of a beast with enough power given to him and the piling loads of emails to reply to, but he knows Shizuo never listens to reason. "Because I don't think you understand what's at stake here." Ah, the gravel tone in Shizu-chan's voice is so telling. And Izaya smirks with mirth knowing that if he pushes himself back into Shizuo's lap he'll feel the beginnings of a hard-on from the beast-like urges of a monster.

Izaya questions which solution of leaving or staying is more beneficial. But seeing as Shizuo takes the liberty to have his arms hook around his waist and anchor him in place, there isn't much to argue about when in the end it's pointless anyway. "Oh, I don't?" he asks, perfectly innocent while the stench of bleach makes his nose wrinkle and can feel hot breaths on his right ear and pretends they don't cause the shudders that are quickly stifled when Izaya shifts in his seat. "But I actually have important things to do that don't involve becoming a monster's plaything. Maybe later, Shizu-chan." Izaya makes no move to leave because those arms around him tighten and are pulling at the hem of his shirt and slipping underneath for hot skin and Izaya swears he doesn't shudder just because Shizuo can't keep his hands to himself.

"They can wait." Shizuo reasons simply, pulling Izaya closer than already physically possible and his mouth brushes against the juncture of throat and collarbone. A tricky place to—Izaya squirms when lips brush against the skin and then again when he uncomfortably tries to fidget. Shizuo isn't fair at all, smiling to himself like a satisfied predator and lips part to kiss at the skin while fingers run up and down Izaya's sides underneath his shirt. There are many things ruining the atmosphere, Izaya decides, from the sting of bleach in his nose from how close Shizu-chan is to the fact he is being manhandled by a blond brute. Not a pleasant thing to deal with, especially if Shizuo keeps kneading his skin like a kitten.

"Would you stop it, Shizu-chan?" Izaya murmurs under a moan hitching in his throat when Shizuo nips at his skin where the noise catches. He can feel lips around the area again and Shizuo's tongue laving the bite with coaxing sucks. "This isn't going to help me get any work done. Or keep my brain from disintegrating." Izaya squirms again, biting his lips with that tongue pressing and sucking when it starts to hurt. They both know Shizuo can play dirty when he wants something, and if it's Izaya, there's a game to play.

"Mm..." Shizuo stops his annoying actions, arms tightening around Izaya and sly fingers brush against a nipple—Izaya lurches forward, swallowing a gasp and hears the rumbling sound of laughter in that smug beast's throat. "Nope. You're much more interesting like this." With that the asshole kisses Izaya's ear, licking the shell and enjoying the shudders that tingle beneath his skin from Izaya to him. In the close proximity the erection he has digging nicely into Izaya's tailbone the informant scowls, struggling once again but not as able to deny that the fingers lightly teasing his nipples feel too good. But the smell of bleach is again stinging his nose and his own arousal battles with the scent, shrinking and more disgusted by the amount of brain cells he's losing in such a short amount of time.

"Get off." Izaya reiterates, hands pushing on Shizuo's arms—the effort is useless, but appreciated for himself and Shizuo's sadistic amusement—"I need to get to work. And you're frying my brain with that stench. You've already distracted me enough." Again he pulls free and this time Shizuo is more insistent, keeping hands on his waist and fingers molesting him with pressing rubs into the dip of his hipbones, another sensitive spot of his (stupid stupid _stupid_ monster) and maybe or maybe not pushing into the fingers when it elicits a hum of approval from the beast. Hands still on Shizuo's arms, he doesn't know what to expect but losing sounds much more believable.

A hand moves away from his hip, the other still massaging and Shizuo's lips are sneaking for a kiss again, pressing against the corner of Izaya's mouth and becoming insistent when Izaya refuses to turn his head. As soon as the fingers dip into Izaya's waistband in the gap of his belt and his pants, too skinny as Shizuo likes to think, he notices the obvious lack of arousal and it's enough to make him stop. "...You're not hard?" Which is strange and a usual question to ask when engaging in these kinds of activities where he knows Izaya's favorite spots turn him on faster than he can let himself moan for once. This, however, is different because pressing again on the soft skin of Izaya's cock he can clearly tell that Izaya's unamused tone isn't just his voice.

Izaya sighs, relaxing in admitting a not so bad defeat if it means playing around with Shizu-chan. "Of course not, you beast. I don't have a high sex drive or the need to have sex every five minutes." Although not true, it does withdraw the invasive fingers from inside his pants and shirt but hooks them to droop at the front of his hips. A lesser of the earlier evil. "Like I said, get off of me." Izaya makes a point of squirming, accepting the fate of being held prisoner while the idiot takes the precious time wasted to think. What a surprise, Shizu-chan.

Yuck. He still smells like bleach. "I don't want to have sex every five minutes." Shizuo agonizes, exaggerating in the low murmur of his voice and tingling pleasantly in Izaya's ear—which again, Izaya can't admit to. "You're just a tease," he justifies, relaxing and pulling Izaya into the slight slouch in between his legs.

Another roll of the eyes for such protozoic logic. "What, jealous you can't get me hard, Shizu-chan? That's so pathetic it's almost believable, **"** he laughs to himself, hearing the growl and feeling the nip of teeth on his ear as a warning he clearly doesn't care for. "Suck it up, Shizu-chan. Not even a beast like you can get what you want." With that Izaya twists out of Shizuo's grasp, making time to grind his back against Shizuo's prominent erection and hearing the curved moan that follows before slipping to the door, halfway out by the time Shizuo realizes he's been played.

"Fuck you." Shizuo snaps, unhappy when Izaya's face disappears behind the door, laughing all the while as the beast's blond reeking hair is no longer stinging in his face. Counting it as a rare win Izaya locks the door from the outside, knowing fully well that Shizuo can break through if he pleases.

"Twenty minutes, Shizu-chan!" Izaya calls, footsteps quickly fading away and Shizuo finds the urge to slap his forehead into his palm.

Damn flea.

All is not well when he sits down to work. Ignoring the buzz in his head down to the places Shizuo touches with such expert knowledge in irritating Izaya, the informant attempts to start up his laptop and begin working again with sorting information. There's a contact job he knows he has but—but?

His groin refuses to behave. After leaving Shizu-chan to groan and grump in the bathroom with a timer set on his laptop, Izaya can't seem to focus on anything. Not with the constant pulsing heat growing stronger and oh _shit—_ he's hard. Some freak of nature accident resulting in the now more than frustrating lack of concentration and the taste of Shizuo's salty skin lingers in his mouth like a phantom. Which really isn't convenient whatsoever when he has work to do and his pants are slowly tightening for no reason. Or, why twenty minutes feel like an hour and doing any kind of work is like working until dawn night after night, which he does enough of already.

Now that he mentions it, he's too tired to care. Erection already sprung in one of the least convenient times of his day and fifteen minutes left until the bleach has to be rinsed out, Izaya tries to ignore it for a total of a minute before he realizes he's fully hard and his skin is blistering. Maybe it's the bleach that burns his skin but he knows the trace of the pattern rooting back to Shizuo's fingers and lips, trailing over skin and the mark on his neck, throbbing more painfully now as a stinging reminder of Shizuo's beast-like nature.

It's just not fair. Closing his laptop and the little progress made for today Izaya spins around in his chair, eyes unwilling to meet the obvious bulge in his pants and he can't go back into the bathroom when Shizuo will see so clearly how stupid he is. Izaya's eyes narrow—but no matter how much he concentrates on willing it away, it only gets worse with the images and reminders of where and how Shizuo touches him—this isn't getting anywhere. The clock is ticking and it's only thirteen minutes left. And no, it doesn't feel like an eternity. It feels like bleeding to death from a paper cut. Utterly ridiculous.

So, he takes matters into his own hands. Reaching down he can see the clear bulge in his tight jeans, careful not to brush against it and the heat pooling in his groin will only stain his pants if he's not careful. Unbuttoning and unzipping, Izaya manages to pull his swollen penis from his pants, moaning into his bitten lip at just the touch of his fingers and the burn it creates. Again this time, roughly circling the tip that's exposed and biting back another loud moan as more clear fluid oozes from the slit. His fingers set to stroking from the base up, eyes closing and unabashedly recreating the image of Shizuo sucking him off which only makes the heat even stronger. Mocha brown eyes daring to look up at him, blond hair tousled and pushed back from his own hands and the image is recreating itself right before his eyes.

Izaya lets another moan slip from his lips, tongue wetting the cracking skin and reluctantly admitting the loss of Shizuo's on his isn't pleasant. But another alternating brush of rough and soft from his fingers circling his cock, slipping over the head and carefully thumbing the slit has the moans starting again, forcing heavier breaths to come from his mouth hanging ajar. In the method of Shizuo's tongue he imagines the flattening of the wet pink muscle against his base, making teasing licks up to circling the head but never dipping in until Izaya grabs his hair harder with the intent of making him hurry, feeling the tongue dive into the slit and his stomach clenching from the rush of pleasure that follows.

Shizuo would tease him, taking him into his mouth that's hot and wet and incredible when he bobs, sucking and licking and fingers can only do so much to recreate the frantic want of that tongue on him again, more fluid flowing from the tip to provide something to ease the burn of friction. More and more he moves his fingers in precise directions, teasing and turning from rough to soft and hitting all the places that threaten to take him over the edge, building up his orgasm for the careful timing of the clock. As fast as it's rising in his stomach he strokes more, dipping over and over into the slit and around the head, circling and pulling at the foreskin, shuddering with each shortened breath of the sensitive flesh being exposed.

Orgasm builds heavily upon him, completely forgetting the smell of bleach in his nose and focusing on the spots Shizuo had kissed and rubbed, moaning louder in his office as the faster strokes made the clenching in his gut draw tighter. Images of Shizuo finishing him off, sucking him so hard he thinks he'll see stars and wanting it to be over with when Shizuo is just too much of a tease and then it's coming, building up quickly now. All those images in place and Shizuo's deft tongue pleasing and sucking him down, taking him all the way with the monster abilities of his and still sucking hard enough to make Izaya moan and gasp and buck in his chair, but not as much this time.

It's building, getting hotter and faster fingers slipping over the slit and rubbing harder, stuttering more breaths when the orgasm creeps up to a high point and—!

Nothing.

Waiting to catch his breath in soft pants, Izaya glanced down at his dick—still very much hard and glistening with his own fluid, but no orgasm to cover his hand. Nothing at all and while he's still hot and erected, the sensation of his fingers isn't enough to bring him to climax. Stroking his dick he can still shudder in the pleasure it brings, yet it doesn't build the climax any more. Just a neutral tingling arousal and Izaya frowns, now even more unamused because of the realization that has to come now.

He can't get off. Furrowing his brows he turns to glance at the clock, five minutes left and fuck, this isn't working. Not as quietly growling a few exasperated curses directed at the beast—it's his fault, the monster—he tucks himself back into his pants, careful of accidentally zipping the skin and knowing the pain it causes all too well. Though his fingers when wiped off on some tissues don't look any different from before, Izaya glares at them with new-found disappointment. Even more mixing into embarrassment when he realizes he can't even masturbate to Shizuo. All the idiot's fault and four minutes left. It's obvious that his erection won't deflate in that amount of time and for some reason Izaya bets Shizuo is laughing in his own little hell where he's dragged Izaya in by some sort of monster abilities.

Izaya groans in frustration, glancing with one eye and a hand holding his head at the clock on the wall.

It mocks him for another agonizingly long four minutes.

When there's a minute or two left remaining Izaya acquiesces to his ill-fated return to Shizuo, moving back down the hall and unhappily making a point of ignoring his erection. Not taking much precaution to cover it Izaya unlocks the door, not saying a word when he enters and feels the burn of brown eyes on him in his arousal. The snap of gloves on his hands make it painfully real how tiny this bathroom is.

"What's up with you?" Shizuo asks, eyes narrowing when Izaya moves to him in heavy steps, almost childish when he pulls at Shizuo's collar and jerks his head toward the bathtub. Searching for an answer in Izaya's eyes doesn't work because he makes a point of not looking directly at Shizuo, confusing him even further when he leans back and hears the rush of the bathwater from the faucet. "Are you gonna tell me, or are you just pissy for no reason?" Shizuo starts again, feeling Izaya tug his hair and shoots him a glare, almost surprised when Izaya doesn't even notice. Weird, but typical Izaya at times.

"Hold still." Not even a nickname or insult when Izaya grinds out the words, pulling Shizuo's head under the spray of water and cupping the crown of Shizuo's hairline—not that he's helping avoid water and bleaching getting into Shizuo's eyes, no—as the warm water soaks through the dyed hair, discoloring the water.

"What's up with you?" Shizuo asks again, trying to see what Izaya's doing but from his vantage point there isn't much to see as Izaya's face isn't anywhere near him. Instead his hands just do the work, rinsing out the rest of the bleach and covering Shizuo's hair with water to rinse out. Nothing comes from Izaya when he doesn't see the slide of teeth grinding in clenching his jaw, shifting uncomfortably against the bathtub when trying to balance and not let Shizuo's hand brush his thigh. Dangerously close to feeling his face heat up he rolls his eyes, biting down on his tongue as his fingers wring out the last of the bleach solution. Just turn off the water and leave without another word is what he's planning, frustrated and aroused at the same time of glaring daggers at Shizuo. It's all his fault and Izaya can't let him know.

Yet to turn off the water, he has to move over Shizuo. Risk being spotted and then made fun of when his erection can easily brush against Shizuo's leg—where if that's a bulge when Izaya looks, then he can clearly reassure that the beast has no self-preservation. Well at least he likes to believe that it doesn't apply to him despite how much he wants to—shit.

"Turn off the water, Shizu-chan." Izaya's hands retract from the newly bleached hair, pulling off the gloves and moving to turn away while the steam starts to get to him or the constricting feeling of his pants does. Shizuo tenses as Izaya pulls himself up, heading toward the door and it takes one disbelieving look and a hand grabbing his pants for Izaya to believe that he must have been sentenced the death penalty at this point. He's going to know and then he'll laugh, tease Izaya and—

"What's with you?" Shizuo uses Izaya to pull himself up, turning off the bathtub faucet and eying Izaya before his gaze slides to the pair of scissors that Izaya remembers he has to cut Shizuo's hair with. Now would be a good time to kill the beast or himself, he realizes with a silent grumble under his breath. Not satisfied with the lack of an answer the beast pulls Izaya against him, meeting with struggling as the flea hisses a curse and wrenches Shizuo's hand off of him. Before he can ask Izaya's already grabbing the scissors, leaning against the counter turned toward the door.

"Sit down and be still for once." Izaya deadpans, uncaring of the expectant glance in his direction of Shizuo waiting for an answer as he situates himself on the toilet seat once again, Izaya flinging a towel on him and the beast's lips curl into an unamused snarl. Because he keeps looking at Izaya, noticing that something feels off and when the louse won't even glance at him it doesn't make any sense at all. Maybe it's because he's hard—well, it's not like he's _that_ much of an animal to jerk off in the bathroom with Izaya here—when he knows Izaya hates when Shizuo masturbates. So complaining about his sex drive is only counterproductive and in effort, a mechanism for Izaya to regain any lost pride that won't be coming back any time soon.

"Seriously," Shizuo lowers his voice, amusement dropping from and attempting to show concern in the even tone, knowing Izaya can't hide from whatever nonsense this is for long. "You're making me anxious just standing over there. What happened?" All he wants is to have the slim body pressed against him, and hopefully at least something to calm the arousal that has been twitching for the past thirty minutes. Izaya moves to roughly dry Shizuo's hair, earning a death glare when he's finally done trying to murder Shizuo and the scissors are back in hand tucked beneath a comb that—is that _his?_ Though curious, Shizuo comes to realize that the black comb in Izaya's hand is actually the flea's personal one, a silly birthday gift in lieu of a joke Shizuo makes about Izaya having the cleanliness habits of a cat. And here it is, pulling tangles from his hair in a careful fashion that doesn't feel like it's the flea who is doing this to him. However, in order to comb all of his hair Izaya has to shift to move in front of Shizuo, where he limits the beast's line of sight and gives him something else to focus on.

Which takes at least ten seconds for Shizuo to notice and smirk to himself as Izaya combs out his bangs, making a point of not saying anything while Izaya finishes because the stupid flea—it makes much more sense now. The grumpy attitude means Izaya got hard and didn't want him to know. Well, not so much of a secret now when just hovering next to Shizuo's knee. What an unexpected surprise, but being his boyfriend maybe it won't matter too much at all. If Shizuo doesn't mind which he clearly doesn't, more amused than annoyed for the flea's past behavior issues (and he's the one who calls Shizuo a child) because of one _slight_ problem.

"Keep your head straight." Izaya grouses, forcing Shizuo's head and eyes away from his crotch, unsuspecting that Shizuo already knows what's bothering him. And if he puts his hands on Izaya's hips, the full-body shudder of approval and a glare of disgust mean that he's exactly right before Izaya gives in to failing to get Shizuo to let go. Not now, especially if he's this achingly hard and karma is such a bitch to him now. Despite this knowledge and advantage he doesn't move, watching metal scissors snip snip snip the ends of his hair into a more manageable length that doesn't feel like he needs to put it up like a girl. Just as easily as Izaya cutting his hair he knows the informant can arrange the scissors to meet the tensed flesh of his throat and plunge straight into the jugular. His move, and he chooses wisely.

He trusts the flea with a lot of things. Not killing him with a pair of scissors is one of those important ones that can be slightly doubted if only for a moment and not really knowing if Izaya would actually think about it. He never has the guts anyway and Shizuo can read him like an open book, knowing fully well that Izaya won't bother to kill him on the basis of at least being friends with benefits. Only to skip over the important part of most of their time together is not even called fucking. It's having sex. And the flea can deny it all he wants to make himself look like an idiot. Something to hold over his head when he wants something and Shizuo likes to indulge new kinks that have been emerging since being with the flea.

Finishing up at his bangs Izaya leans back, not paying attention to Shizuo's line of sight or the slow creep of his fingers up his sides, kneading into the skin beneath a rib and hearing a stifled noise breaking through. Pressing harder when Izaya is nearly done the jolt results in pushing him away, feeling the brush of scissors against his throat like a meaningless warning when Izaya's eyes narrow on him and hold a glare for a total of a second before he finishes, muttering something about incorrigible monsters and a low IQ. If only he knows what's about to happen, starting at the finish when the last piece of hair falls and the scissors clatter onto the counter. Izaya's already brushing hair into the trash, turning away just as quickly as the first time he escapes and this time Shizuo already has a plan, reaching forward and grasping a hip with a heavy grip.

"Shizu-chan, let go of me!" Izaya wriggles in his grasp, pulled back and against his will onto Shizuo, who easily connects their lips with a smirk and insistent pressing. The reaction is instant, Izaya melting into the licks sweeping against the dried blood on his bottom lip, Shizuo moving further when he feels the faint trace of teeth marks and of course Izaya wouldn't mind—not when Shizuo's hand comes to cup a very obvious erection, earning a loud gasp and an impatient buck of the hips in a twisted sort of irony. Shizuo gives Izaya a moan to catch onto, rumbling from his throat and fingers slipping into the crease of Izaya's belt and waistline, teasingly hanging above where he knows the wet spots will soon start to soak through on Izaya's jeans.

"Not hard, were you?" Shizuo teases when they pull apart, Izaya's hands grasping onto the counter and a moan punctuating the glare from Izaya, filling the anger with holes as Shizuo's hand cups the bulge in Izaya's jeans, pressing with his thumb to elicit another gasp and a certain spot of Izaya sitting in his lap with a push from behind.

"I ha—ate you!" Izaya snaps, Shizuo's other hand riding up his shirt and pinching a nipple which is harder than before, red most likely at this point like Izaya's attempts of hiding the flush in his cheeks. But his hips are another story of rocking into Shizuo's moaning when lips attach to his throat and tease the earlier mark, earning another hiss. "Stop it, you beast! Let me—!" Izaya struggles again, giving in to Shizuo's lips pressing to his and biting his bottom lip, knowing it's a weird kink of the flea's and Shizuo happily obliges, smug when Izaya's erection only gets harder. A tongue slips into his mouth, sucking on his and not minding if Shizuo's captures his in a short movement of his hand sliding to the back of Izaya's head, making sure to brush his thumb underneath his ear as it tangles in black hair.

"Don't think you can lie to me, flea." Shizuo suddenly removes his hands from Izaya, hearing the when and attempting to keep the laugh in while shameless of the own stretch of his jeans. "Show me you don't want it." Red eyes narrow and flash like warning signs and it doesn't take much preoccupation when he can crush the scissors next to his head on the counter. He wouldn't dare.

Izaya hisses, angrily capturing their lips again and with a bite for good measure that's sure to bleed into his mouth.

Stupid Shizu-chan.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mama Shizuwan for betaing for me, I need to stop writing at midnight.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
